Not Quite Perfect
by FluffyCloudStuff
Summary: The SBPD hires Shawn and Gus to solve the murder of a seemingly perfect man. But was he really as upstanding as he seemed, or was he hiding something? As the web of lies unfolds, Shawn finds himself in a predicament he never thought he'd have to face. Shassie! :3
1. Chapter 1: It's Not Just a Hotdog

**A/N: I know I've been MIA for a while (thank you, AP classes), but I've been working on this little baby for a while now. Oh, and since all I know about the investigation process is what I've learned from TV, feel free to give me insight if I've gotten anything wrong.**

_1__989_

_Henry Spencer answered the doorbell and found a blonde, pig-tailed little girl standing with her mother on the doorstep. The girl seemed rather shy, as she hadn't looked up from the ground since Henry opened the door._

"_Can I help you with something?"_

_The woman encouragingly nudged her daughter. The little girl looked up timidly. "I wanted to ask if Shawn would go to the spring dance with me." she said, pink flushing into her cheeks._

_Henry grinned as he glanced back into the house. Eleven-year-old Shawn had overheard the conversation and was desperately mouthing, "No, no!"_

"_Actually, Shawn isn't here, but I'll be sure to let him know you asked." Henry said to the girl. He looked on as the mother and daughter walked away, and Shawn sighed with relief. Henry closed the door. _

"_What's the matter with you?" he scolded his son. "Some deranged little girl actually likes you, and you're going to turn her down?"_

"_Dad, I'm not going to a dance, especially with her."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because girls are gross," Shawn said, wrinkling his nose as if he couldn't imagine how his father didn't know. _

_Henry chuckled. "All right, Shawn. You may think that now, but you'll start thinking differently when you're older."_

_Shawn waited until his dad left the room to mutter to himself. "If that's going to happen, I'll never grow up!"_

~P~

"It's not just a hotdog, Shawn." Gus insisted.

"Gus, no hot dog is just a hotdog," Shawn contended. "It's the blended rejects of a bunch of animal parts. I don't know why we even eat them."

The two of them were walking down a monstrous stone driveway that led to an equally elaborate mansion. A couple of police cars sat outside. Shawn and Gus walked up the steps in sync.

"_This_ hotdog is injected with three types of cheese and meat sauce, Shawn. It's delicious."

Shawn paused. "Well, you've got me there."

As they entered the living room, Shawn could hear a high-pitched, internal squeal from his best friend, and for a good reason. There in the middle of a floor was the body of the house's owner. He'd obviously been stabbed several times, and there was blood splattered all over the floor and furniture.

"What's the lowdown here, Jules?" Shawn asked the detective.

Juliet scanned her notepad. "Norman Conway, businessman and millionaire. He's been stabbed to death apparently, but we've yet to find the weapon. The door was unlocked, and the mailman found him."

"So why are we here?" Shawn asked.

"A question I often ask myself," Detective Lassiter commented from a few feet away. Juliet ignored him.

"Mr. Conway was known for being exceptionally generous and charitable, especially to his employees." she went on. "Besides that, he was also extremely paranoid after a break-in a few months ago. He installed a security system, but it never went off, and there was no sign of a forced entry. There's also a video camera outside the door, but the film's been erased."

"I'm still not getting why you need us." Shawn reiterated.

"Since there was no sign of forced entry, Conway must've known who it was and let them in. He has little family, but they all have alibis. But he does have a lot of employees."

"Are we getting to part where you need us?"

"The chief thinks it'll be easier for you to solve the murder psychically than for us to interrogate all of them." Juliet explained.

Shawn looked around. He saw the wilting plant in the corner, the messily glued chip on the kitchen counter. He remembered the flowers lining the driveway — they were impeccable. "Wait a minute, I'm getting something." Shawn said, squinting his eyes and raising a hand to his temple. "There's someone else. Does Conway have a gardener?"

"No, but he does have a maintenance man," Juliet replied. "But he doesn't have a motive."

"But does he have an alibi?"

"Not an air-tight one," Lassiter pointed out. "We'll check it out."

~P~

"I didn't kill anybody, I swear!"

Conway's maintenance man, John Marsh, sat at the table in the interrogation room, opposite Juliet and Lassiter. He was wearing a navy jumpsuit, which was probably the cleanest part of him. His grayish-brown hair hung to his shoulders in greasy strands. A gruesome goatee surrounded his mouth.

"Gus," Shawn said from behind the one-way glass. "He looks kind of like that hobo we saw outside of the doughnut shop."

"That wasn't a hobo, Shawn. That was the cashier on break."

"Well, that explains the apron."

"Mr. Conway was the nicest boss I ever had. The pay was good, the vacations were good… Why would I want to kill him?" Marsh continued.

"That's exactly what we're here to find out." Lassiter said. "Your wife said you were with her yesterday, but it wasn't your day off. How do you explain that?"

"I was sick. I called Mr. Conway, and he gave me the day off."

"How convenient. The day of his murder, you just happen to call in sick."

"Look, I just had a stroke of luck. If I had been at work that day, you might be putting two people in body bags."

"That's too big of a coincidence." Shawn commented. "I need to get in there."

"Shawn, you can't just interrupt an interrogation. Shawn! Where are you going?" Gus ran after him, though he knew he wasn't going to stop him.

Shawn burst into the interrogation room, eyes closed, waving around crazily. "I'm getting something here…something fishy…or is it minty?"

"Spencer, get the hell out of here." Lassiter ordered, but Shawn didn't seem to have heard him.

"I'm getting…Stabler and Benson."

"Law and Order?" Juliet offered.

Shawn waved his hand around, letting it rest on Gus's head. Gus smacked it away.

"Now I'm getting…Ponch and Jon,"

"CHiPs?" Marsh pitched in.

"Partners!" Gus cried.

"Yes! Partners! I'm sensing that…" Shawn opened his eyes and pointed directly at Marsh. "You had a partner."

Marsh's eyes widened.

"That's how you knew not to go to work yesterday, isn't it?"

"L-listen, I didn't plan anything against Mr. Conway! I got a call telling me not to go to work, or else. They wouldn't tell me who they were, but I wasn't about to ignore them."

"That's very interesting…" Shawn slid into the seat across from Marsh. "I just have one more very important question for you. Do you now or have you ever worked at a doughnut shop?"

"Shawn!"

~P~


	2. Chapter 2: Wavy Tube Things

"We tried to trace the call, but it was blocked." Lassiter announced, approaching Juliet's desk.

"Are you getting anything, Shawn?" Juliet asked hopefully. Shawn was sitting on top of her desk, mouth pursed in thought. It was apparent that his mind was blank.

"Of course he's not _getting_ anything. We should stop wasting time and start interrogating the employees." Lassiter said.

"Have a little faith, Lassie. I've narrowed it down for you. It had to be someone who _knew_ that Marsh worked for Conway."

"Any of the employees could've known that. So again, your input is useless."

Shawn jumped down from Juliet's desk. "Well, I think it's about time for lunch. I'll let you know if the spirits give me any more 'useless input' that has somehow solved _all_ of the cases that you couldn't."

Lassiter looked a little taken aback. That was a little less humorous than usual.

Gus followed Shawn out of the department, looking rather perplexed. "This is a murder case, Shawn. We need to be investigating."

"I know that. That's what we're going to do. Where do we find Conway's office?"

"Conway owned a hardware store chain. His office is in the main store here in Santa Barbara."

"Why do you know this?"

"I subscribe to _Businessmen Weekly_."

"Gus, reading a business magazine does not a businessman make."

"I might be, if you hadn't sabotaged my chances of getting into business school. And don't go all Shakespeare on me, Shawn. You thought Hamlet was a tiny pig."

"I sabotaged you for your own good, Gus. I didn't want you to end up having an affair with your secretary." Shawn explained, climbing into the car. "And those tiny pigs are awesome."

"Speaking of pigs, you mentioned lunch…"

"Yes, we're going to stop for a couple of those hot dogs."

"You know that's right."

~P~

Gus and Shawn stood in front of a huge gray building with a green sign that bore the words "Nail-It" in large, white lettering.

"Why have I never heard of this place?" Shawn asked in awe.

"Because you still refuse to fix that shelf in the office."

"It still holds. You just can't put anything on it, or the duct tape will break. Oh, look, Gus; they have one of those things!" Shawn pointed to the giant advertising tube man that was flapping around in the parking lot.

"Why did you point that out? You know those things give me the creeps."

"That's just irrational, Gus."

"About as irrational as your fear of tassels?"

"It's not a fear. It's more of an aversion." Shawn contended as they entered the store. "They don't serve any practical purpose. They just dangle around. That's just weird, Gus. It's weird."

"May I help you?" an uninterested employee in a green apron grumbled.

"Yes, my name is Shawn Spencer, and this is my partner Higgins Hasslefluff. We're city insulation inspectors."

"Insulation…inspectors," the man restated, his thin, pale face expressionless.

"Yes."

"But isn't the insulation…inside the walls?"

"That's correct, my good man. And we're here to make sure that's exactly where it remains. We'll need to kind of look around, investigate, poke around, if you will. Oh, and we'll also need to know where your boss's office is."

"Why?"

"Well, that's the most important place for insulation."

The employee looked unconvinced. "Look, I don't know who you guys are, but the cops have been rifling through everything. I really don't think you have any business being in there."

Shawn sighed. "Look, Larry,"

"It's Jeff."

"Look, Jeff, we're not actually insulation inspectors, though that would be a really cool job to have; am I right, Higgins?" Gus elbowed him. Shawn's expression sobered. "I'm actually a psychic detective. I'm working with the Santa Barbara Police Department. I think I could read the situation a lot better if I could be in a room that Mr. Conway was often in."

Jeff pressed his lips together tightly in thought. "Well…all right. But don't tell anyone I let you in."

"Thanks, John." Shawn slapped the man's shoulder as he and Gus passed.

In the distance, Gus overheard the man mutter, "I'm wearing a nametag!"

~P~

"If there's anything I know about seemingly perfect guys getting murdered, it's that they're always hiding something." Shawn commented as he sifted through items on Conway's large, cherry wood desk. He crouched down to examine the drawers.

"How many things _do_ you know about guys getting murdered?" Gus replied. "I don't know, Shawn. Everything looks like it's in order."

"Exactly. That's when you know something is off." Shawn opened the drawers, running his hand under them. He smiled as his hand hit something.

"Or he's just organized."

"Or…" Shawn stood, holding up an envelope that had been taped under a drawer. "He's hiding something," he reiterated.

Gus raised his eyebrows, impressed. "What is it?"

"Nothing written on the outside…" Shawn went to open it and found that the flap was unsealed. "Looks like legal stuff. Take a look."

Gus took the papers and examined them closely. "Oh my gosh…"

"What?"

Gus looked up, wide-eyed. "Conway was going to sell the company!"

"Why would he do that?"

"Are you kidding? He was going to get a fortune for it. He'd be an idiot not to."

Shawn thought for a moment. "So why was he keeping it a secret? Maybe he was dealing with some shady people?"

Gus shook his head. "The guy that was going to buy him out is a huge millionaire. He's bought all kinds of companies."

"It just doesn't make sense…"

"What now?"

"Now? I guess we should let the police in on it."

~P~

"The spirits are strong in this one!" Shawn declared as he burst into the police station, Gus trailing behind.

Lassiter looked on skeptically. "Don't you mean the force?"

Shawn smiled. "Very nice, Lassie."

"Are you getting something about the Conway case, Mr. Spencer?" Chief Vick asked, coming out of her office.

"Yes, I'm getting…a manicure."

"You are?" Juliet asked, walking up behind Lassiter.

"Yes. Well, I'm not _getting_ one, but I'm getting one now. I mean…I'm… The spirits are saying manicure, okay!" Juliet nodded quickly.

"Now I'm getting a chisel…no…a hammer."

"A construction site?" the chief offered.

"Uh…I'm getting…" Shawn suddenly started flailing around, like he was doing an upright worm, waving his hands in the air.

All three of them just gave him weird looks. Gus just shook his head.

"Manicure…hammer…nails!" Juliet cried. "And there's one of those wavy tube things in front of Conway's hardware store! I just passed it yesterday!"

"Yes, Jules! That's it!"

"Let's go, then." Chief Vick announced.

~P~

Shawn and Gus got to the hardware store just before Chief Vick, Lassiter, and Juliet. Shawn ran inside, not waiting for Gus. And Gus was not about to run in his new dress shoes. That was a blister waiting to happen.

"Where did he go?" Vick asked Gus as they all walked in. Gus shrugged.

"Attention everyone!" Shawn's voice resonated throughout the building. Everyone in the store looked up. Shawn was on a lift used to stock shelves, about ten feet in the air. "To the owner of the blue Chevy Volt, your car is about to be towed."

A young man took off for the door in desperation.

Shawn looked surprised. "Really? Someone here actually has one of those? You know, I heard that you hardly ever have to get gas with those things."

"Get down! You aren't authorized to be up there!" a tubby employee shouted.

"It's okay; I've used these millions of times!" Shawn called back.

"Has he?" Juliet asked Gus.

"No," Gus groaned.

"Spencer, get down from there! You're wasting everyone's time!" Lassiter yelled.

"Lassie, I'm about to have what I like to call a _psychic_ _breakthrough_."

"Would you just break through already?"

"Fine." Shawn raised a hand to his temple. "I'm sensing a secret has been kept from you all. Well, not all of you, just the employees. Actually, I guess technically — "

"Mr. Spencer, will you get on with it?" Vick asked less than politely.

"Mr. Conway seemed like the perfect man, but he had a secret. And if you search his office, I'm sure you will be able to find it."

"We've already searched the office. There was nothing there." Lassiter argued.

"That's the thing about secrets, Lassie. They tend to be hidden." Shawn pressed a button, and the platform descended. "I'm sensing…it's in his desk."

Vick, Juliet, Lassiter, and Gus all made their way to Conway's office. Shawn, once he hopped off the lift, wasn't far behind.

"What are we looking for, Shawn?" Juliet asked, at a loss.

Shawn closed his eyes, then opened them again. "The writer…no, the drawer," he said pointing.

"It's just rubber bands and paper clips. Junk," Juliet replied as she dug through the contents of the drawer.

"Under…the spirits are saying _under_."

Juliet ducked under the drawer, and to her astonishment, there was an envelope taped there. She opened it and scanned the pages quickly. Shaking her head, she handed them to Lassiter.

"He was going to sell the company?" he surmised. "Why would he keep that hidden?"

Shawn thought for a moment. "I'm guessing someone found out, and they didn't like it too much."

~P~


	3. Chapter 3: Boy, is She Squirrelly

Back in the Psych office, Shawn leaned back in his chair, feet propped on his desk. He was attempting to stab a piece of wayward chicken in his take-out box with one chopstick.

Meanwhile, Gus was at his computer, typing furiously. He peered around the monitor and furrowed his brow. "Shawn, you're not even helping. You're not doing _anything_."

"Gus, it's impossible to do nothing. I'm sitting. I'm breathing."

"You're about to stop breathing."

Shawn swung his feet off the desk and set his box down. "I am working. If I don't keep myself sustained, I won't be any help to anyone."

He walked across the room and bent down to look at Gus's screen. "Found anything?"

"Actually, yes," Gus replied, perking up a little. "It turns out that Conway wasn't the only owner of the company. He had junior partners." Gus scrolled down to reveal their pictures. Both were middle-aged. One was a portly man with glasses and the beginnings of a comb-over. The other was a woman with curly red hair piled on top of her head, poodle-style.

"They don't exactly look like murderers." Shawn commented.

"That's what I was thinking."

"Didn't the detectives already talk to them?"

"They did, but that was before they found out about the secret contract. If the partners didn't know about it, then Conway might have had something against them."

Shawn paced the floor for a moment. "So they had alibis?"

"Yes. Their housekeeper said they were both home the night of the murder."

Shawn shook his head. "What else have we got?"

"Fifty more employees. In other words, nothing."

Shawn let out a weary sigh. "There's no way we could talk to them all."

"You won't have to," a voice spoke up. The chief stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Lassiter and Juliet lingered behind her.

"Chief, what a surprise!" Shawn exclaimed. "I'm glad we cleaned up."

Chief Vick and the detectives surveyed the room, imagining, to their horror, what the office could've looked like before it was "cleaned up."

Vick cleared her throat, suddenly remembering why she'd entered this hole. "We'd like your assistance."

~P~

Fifteen minutes later, the five of them were walking down a parking lot, approaching a large office building.

"I thought Conway's office was in a store." Shawn spoke up in confusion.

"It is," Juliet replied. "He always liked to be up-close and personal with his customers. The people who handle the behind-the-scenes stuff work here."

The troop made their way to the front desk. Chief Vick flashed her badge to the secretary. "Chief Vick from the Santa Barbara Police Department. I'd like to speak with your boss." The secretary, a skinny twenty-something with a seemingly perpetual deer-in-the-headlights expression, nodded and turned to the phone.

Shawn glanced around the room. All over the main floor, employees were peering over and around their cubicles, trying to see what was going on. Shawn took note of diamond earrings, expensive ties. They were definitely not millionaires, but they were doing well for themselves. They wouldn't be angry with Conway for underpaying them.

A few moments later, the secretary hung up the phone. "Mr. Tucker would like to see you in his office," she said in a small voice, "Right this way."

The secretary, hobbling on too-high stilettos, led them down a long hallway to an elevator. As they got on, Gus aimed his "charming" smile at her. She gave a nervous smile back and quickly looked away. Shawn rolled his eyes.

On the top floor, she led them to a huge wooden door. Knocking softly, she spoke up, "Mr. Tucker, they're here."

"Let them in," came the reply.

As they stepped into Tucker's office, Shawn and Gus immediately recognized him. He was the tubby man they'd seen on the company website. Not only was he a partner, he was also the CEO. Apparently, the picture had been a few years old, because Tucker now had less hair (and thus, a more obvious comb-over) and a little more around the waistline.

Tucker reached out to shake each of their hands. He then turned to his secretary. "Thank you, Melissa. You may go." He smiled as the young woman teetered out the door. "She's a good worker, but boy is she squirrelly."

Shawn and Gus got thoughtful looks on their faces. That was one term they would have to remember. Shawn nudged Gus and nodded at the model sailboats on a bookshelf. Slowly, they inched towards them.

"Now," Tucker began, taking his place at his large, mahogany desk. "What can I help you fine people with?"

"That's what we're wondering." Chief Vick answered. "I'm afraid my detectives haven't gotten any new leads."

Tucker cleared his throat, glancing at Shawn and Gus. Shawn was trying to poke one of the boats, and Gus had slapped his hand. "They're detectives?" Tucker asked warily.

Lassiter laughed under his breath, and Juliet merely shook her head. Chief Vick gave Shawn and Gus a look.

"They're consultants." Vick clarified.

"Psychic detectives, actually." Shawn corrected her. "My name is Shawn Spencer, and this is my partner— "

"It's Guster. Burton Guster," Gus interrupted, offering his hand to shake. "He's psychic, I'm not." Gus added, seeing the CEO's skeptical expression. It could never hurt to appear sane to the higher-ups.

"Interesting," Tucker commented. "So if you haven't any new leads, what are you doing back here?"

"We'd like to ask to question your employees." Vick said.

"Oh…of course. And what is the purpose of having a…_psychic_?"

"Mr. Tucker, believe it or not, Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster have helped us on many cases. We feel their services would be valuable in our investigation. Plus, you have many more employees than we have detectives. It would be easier on us and you if we could do this in a timely manner." Chief Vick replied.

Tucker nodded. "All right. I'll make the announcement."

The CEO stepped into the hallway, followed by the police entourage. They were halfway to the elevator when a familiar red-haired woman approached them. She was the poodle-haired woman from the website. Time had been a little kinder to her. She had expanded slightly, but her hair was now chin-length and straight. She also seemed to have gotten a little Botox injected into her cheeks.

"George? What's going on?"

"Nothing, dear. The police just want to question our employees. This is my wife, Phyllis." George said for Shawn and Gus's sakes. The chief and the detectives had already met her.

Phyllis introduced herself as the CFO of the company. _They must have been really good friends of Conway's if he'd appointed them to such high positions, _Shawn said to himself.

"I'm sure none of our employees would have anything to do with the…" Phyllis trailed off. She cleared her throat. "Everyone here loved Norman."

"We understand, Mrs. Tucker, but we have to take every precaution. We have no where else to turn." the chief sympathized.

"Yes, of course." Phyllis sniffed. "Whatever you need to do."

They all packed into the elevator, descending to the main floor once again. Shawn was still thinking about the people he'd seen in those cubicles. No one looked guilty. No one looked suspicious. Something in his gut was telling him that this was just a waste of time. But there was no way he could tell the chief that.

~P~

Shawn leaned forward and put his arms on the table, interlocking his fingers in a very intellectual fashion. "All right then, Amber, is it?"

The woman across the table, one of the few that agreed to be questioned by a psychic, raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Yes. Amber Flanagan."

"Now, we just have a few questions for you Ms. Flanagan." Shawn said in his best interrogation voice.

"Aren't you supposed to be psychic?" Amber replied.

"Sometimes the spirits need a little prompting."

"Oh, I see." the woman answered, as if she were humoring a child.

"You may be aware of the documents that were leaked to the press recently…"

"You leaked them, Shawn." Gus pointed out.

Shawn gave him a look. "Do you mind? I don't interrupt you while _you're_ working."

"Yes, you do. Almost every day."

Shawn turned back to Amber. "You'll have to excuse Turtlemaster Snapdragon."

"That's what name you're giving me? _That's_ what you were going to tell the CEO of the company?"

"Gentlemen, please," Chief Vick interrupted from the back of the room where she'd been observing. She just knew something like this was bound to happen. "I'm Karen Vick, chief of the SBPD." she introduced herself. "You'll have to excuse _both_ of them. You're the third person they've questioned, and they have short attention spans. I think what Mr. Spencer was trying to ask is if you know of anyone who had anything against Mr. Conway."

Amber shook her head, her near-black hair swaying. "Mr. Conway was such a nice man. He was always kind and generous to all of us…maybe some more than others. But I can't imagine why anyone would want to kill him."

Chief Vick nodded. "Well, luckily, you have a pretty credible alibi. Unless we uncover something else, you're free to go."

Amber offered a small grin toward Shawn and Gus, her eyes brimming with tears. As she left, Shawn leaned back in his chair.

"I didn't want to say it, but I thought this would be a waste of time." he spoke up.

"Maybe so," Vick murmured. "Lassiter and O'Hara must have something, though."

As if on cue, both of the detectives entered the room. The chief looked up expectantly.

"Nothing," O'Hara said, disappointment in her voice.

"Nothing except a mistress." Lassiter added.

O'Hara rolled her eyes. "She wasn't his mistress. He wasn't married, and they broke up years ago."

"But that's still valuable information." Vick said, perking up a little. "I want this woman investigated further."

O'Hara shrugged. "If that's what you want, Chief, but I don't think she's a suspect. The breakup was mutual and they still remained friends."

"I don't care. This is all we have to go on. I wanted this case wrapped up quickly, but it appears it's not going to be that simple." The chief looked around at all of them, her expression determined. She walked out of the room briskly, silently indicating for them to follow. Shawn and Juliet were the last to exit.

"Hey, Jules, Gus and I were going out for doughnuts. Do you want to come?"

"Oh, sorry; Josh is taking me to dinner tonight."

Shawn cringed. _Josh_.

"Maybe another time." she added.

"Right," Shawn replied. "See you tomorrow."

"Is Juliet coming?" Gus asked as Shawn met him by the Echo.

"No, she's going out with _Josh_." Shawn commented, climbing in the passenger seat. Gus got in as well, not letting Shawn escape the conversation.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm _fine_."

"You don't seem fine."

"It's been two months. I'm not mad because we broke up. I'm mad because of that Josh guy. He's not right for her."

"I think he's nice."

"Those are the ones you have to watch for."

Gus rolled his eyes. He wasn't even going to try to argue.

~P~


	4. Chapter 4: It's All in the Cheekbones

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update. All I've had time to do this week is eat, sleep, and do homework. As always, I heart your reviews. Oh, and I apologize for the Shassie delay, but it's going to take a while for that to develop. So for now, let's hop into the Mystery Machine, gang!**

"I swear to you, Gus, they could be twins." Shawn said.

"They both have long hair and beards. That's it." Gus replied, biting into a glazed doughnut.

Shawn leaned back in their booth to get a better look at the cashier. "I don't know. They kind of have the same bone structure too. It's all in the cheekbones."

"Shawn, quit staring. You're going to get us thrown out of here. You do remember that we came here to brainstorm, right?"

"I hate that word. Brainstorm. If you had a storm going on in your head, I don't think you'd be concentrating on anything else."

"Shawn,"

"Okay, okay, I'm storming," Shawn stuffed half of his doughnut into his mouth and chewed with a furrowed brow and purpose in his eyes. "I don't believe in this mistress thing. It just doesn't seem believable. If he were married, it would be different."

"Okay. But if there is something to this, then what reasons might she have?"

Shawn shrugged. "Jealousy. Something to do with money or power. The usual things." He shook his head. "Something else is bugging me. Something about the Tucker guy. He seemed a little strange to me."

"Anyone who would allow one of those tube things in his company's parking lot has to be a little demented." Gus agreed.

"But what did he do? What did he say?"

"He obviously didn't want a psychic poking around."

Shawn waved that off. "That comes with the territory. So is he in charge of the company now?"

"Temporarily, at least. Conway had already agreed to sign over the company to that millionaire, Bill Stanley. Stanley wants Tucker to sign too, though, just to make things neat."

Shawn nodded. "Okay, there's something. Will the Tuckers get all of the money from the deal?"

"We don't know yet. The will is going to be read next week."

Shawn bit his lip. "What else do we have on Tucker? Alibi?"

"Housekeeper vouched for him and his wife."

"Is that good enough, though?"

"It seems to be good enough for the detectives for now."

"Suppose we go see this housekeeper for ourselves."

"We can't just go harass a housekeeper, Shawn."

"Who says?"

"Morals. Morals say. And courtesy. I'm willing to bet she has some respect for the Tuckers, and she probably wouldn't appreciate us questioning her statement."

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

Gus shook his head. "The Tuckers are innocent, Shawn. Norman Conway was their best friend. And he gave them those jobs."

"That's what the chief said when I brought Tucker up as a suspect. But they'll lose their jobs when the company is sold."

"Conway probably left them the money from the deal."

"They didn't even _know_ about the deal."

Gus thought for a moment. "Okay, maybe you're right."

"Thank you."

"But we're still not going to bother their housekeeper."

"Sure we're not."

~P~

Shawn rang the doorbell and stepped back. Gus stood beside him, an irritated look on his face.

"Not amused, Shawn."

"Not meant to be amusing, Gus."

"You said we were going for frozen yogurt."

"We _will_. We're just stopping here first."

"How did you even find out where she lived?"

"Come on, Gus. I read the file."

"You can't just read files, Shawn."

"No one was looking."

Gus just shook his head. "I'm not saying anything."

"What do you m—"

The door opened, interrupting Shawn's statement.

"May I help you?" an elderly Hispanic woman asked.

"Yes, you can. My name is Shawn Spencer, and this is my partner, Gorge—" Gus elbowed Shawn in the ribs. Shawn scowled at him, then turned back to the now bewildered housekeeper. "Gus. This is Gus. We're working with the police department. Would you mind if we asked you a few questions, Ms…?"

"Sanchez. Rose Sanchez. Yes, come in." She opened the door further to allow them inside. It was a decent house, probably lower middle class. Ms. Sanchez seemed to make a sufficient living for a housekeeper.

"Please, sit down," she offered, gesturing to the couch. "You know, the police already talked to me before. Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing wrong." Shawn looked at Gus, who was staring defiantly forward. Shawn refrained from rolling his eyes. "We were just wondering about your boss, Mr. Tucker."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Tucker. Lovely man." Ms. Sanchez replied, maybe a little too quickly, Shawn noted.

"You said he was home the night of the murder?"

"Yes, he and his wife were both home."

"But it was late. Why were you still there?"

"Oh…I had taken part of the day off, but I still wanted to finish my daily work." she smiled. "They're such lovely people. I didn't want to leave them with a dirty house."

"Right," Shawn smiled back. "So you haven't noticed anything suspicious?"

"Oh, no, nothing out of the ordinary. Mr. Conway's death was a shock to us all."

"Of course. Did Mr. Tucker ever mention anything about a big business deal?"

Ms. Sanchez thought for a moment. "Nothing too big, I don't think."

Shawn sat back. He was sure there must be something else to this Tucker guy.

"Can I ask you again what the Tuckers were doing the night of the murder?"

"They were in the den, watching _The Voice_. Mr. Tucker was also doing a crossword puzzle."

Shawn nodded. Nothing. "Well, I think that's all we need, right, Gus?"

Gus didn't even look at him. Ms. Sanchez looked confused. "Is he…all right?"

"He's a little hypoglycemic."

"I'm not hypoglycemic. What would that have to do with anything?"

"Ha!" Shawn pointed his finger in Gus' face in a "gotcha" move.

Gus rolled his eyes and stood. "Thank you for your time," he said the Ms. Sanchez, who was even more bewildered than before. With that, he left the house, making Shawn run to catch up.

"I feel like you owe me something for that."

Gus stopped as he opened the car door. "Hypoglycemia? I owe you nothing."

"By the way, are you ever going to let me finish a nickname today?"

Gus glared at Shawn as the climbed into the Echo. "I hope you realize that was just a big waste of time."

Shawn sighed. "I know. I was sure I could get something out of here. But there were no inconsistencies with anything she said before. She even remembered what they were watching."

"Like I said, Shawn, it's not Tucker. Our best bet is to go with the ex-girlfriend."

"I don't think it's her either."

"Why not? You didn't even meet her."

"They broke up a long time ago. She's suddenly going to decide to kill him now?"

"Maybe she's just crazy."

Shawn was going to argue, but he didn't have the heart for it. "I don't know. I'm really starting to not like this case."

"Are we going for frozen yogurt, or what? I have plans tonight."

"Oh, _plans_? You have _plans_? What could be more important than solving this case?" Shawn said sarcastically.

"Don't even try to guilt me, Shawn. If you get to slack off, so do I. Between this and my real job, I hardly have any time to myself. And if you must know, I have a date."

Shawn was stunned into silence for a moment. "You have a date?"

"It's not that unbelievable, Shawn."

"No, it's just…who have you met recently?" Shawn's eyes widened as he turned to look at Gus. "No,"

Gus stared at the road.

"No, no, Gus, not her. Not the squirrelly girl."

"Her name is _Melissa_, and she's very nice. I had a chance to talk to her before we left. We're going to Red Robin."

Shawn shook his head. "I thought you had a little more pride, man."

"You know, we're both single now. At least I'm doing something about it."

"Fine, Gus, whatever. I hope you get married and have little squirrelly children."

~P~

"Good morning, Buzz; looking very Buzzy today." Shawn commented as he entered the station.

"Hey, Shawn." McNabb replied. "You might want to watch out for Detective Lassiter. He looks kind of mad."

"Nah, that's just his face." Shawn said with a smile. He turned around, ignoring McNabb's horrified expression, and almost ran right into Lassiter.

"Whoa, hello,"

"I need a word." Lassiter said sharply.

"How about 'crocitation?'" Shawn offered.

Lassiter responded by grabbing Shawn's ear and tugging him down the hallway.

"I'll take that as a no!"

Lassiter finally let Shawn go, causing him to crash against the wall.

"A little birdie told me you were out questioning Tucker's housekeeper last night." Lassiter accused.

"For a detective, I'd figure you'd have more reliable sources."

Lassiter jammed a finger in Shawn's face. "Don't try me, Spencer. I'm not going to have you ruining this case, like you do all the others."

"Last time I checked, I _solved_ all the other cases."

"Maybe we'd solve them a lot quicker if you weren't around."

"You wouldn't solve them at all."

"Spencer, I swear, stop with this wild goose chase. Tucker is innocent. You're wasting all of our time."

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" the chief spoke up.

"He's still trying to get something on Tucker." Lassiter replied.

"Chief, I still think he's a suspect!"

"He had an _alibi_."

"It's got to be false—"

"Gentlemen, please!" Chief Vick interrupted. "We have more important things to discuss. The ex-girlfriend checked out. But we have a new suspect, one without an alibi."

Shawn and Lassiter looked at each other, then back at the chief.

"Her name is Alina Rabinovich. She was Norman Conway's wife."

~P~


	5. Chapter 5: Having Tea

**A/N: (Really long note) Thank you to xxSpade's Ace, for your help! And WOW I've been so lazy. I should've updated a long time ago. I had a whole fall break… Anyway, I'm thinking of changing the rating to T, for a little bit of violence and some minor language. What was formerly **_**America's Got Talent **_**has been changed to **_**The Voice**_**…because I actually know what day that show is on. Oh and Henry has retired again. Go forth into the world in thy loud Hawaiian shirts!**

Chapter 5

Shawn and Gus stood behind the one-way glass, peering in the interrogation room at the latest suspect. Alina Rabinovich was young—probably in her early thirties. Too young to be married to the forty-nine-year-old Conway. She had chin-length maroon-colored hair that she kept tucking behind her ears in what seemed to be a nervous tick. But as soon as the detectives entered the room, her demeanor changed entirely. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

"Maybe I was wrong." Shawn thought aloud.

"You were definitely wrong. Conway's wife has been missing for nearly two years, and they just now found her. It's open-and-shut." Gus replied.

"Probably,"

Gus sighed. "No, Shawn. Why can't you just admit you were wrong? You've been wrong plenty of times before. What's different now?"

Shawn bit his lip. "All right. It's just that I was getting a vibe from Tucker…"

"You do remember that you're not really psychic, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," Shawn replied. "Where were you earlier?"

"I got home late. I slept in." Gus replied nonchalantly, staring forward.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "I wasn't too far off about the squirrel children, was I?"

Gus frowned and slapped Shawn's arm. "That's not what we were doing, Shawn." Gus said, pointing an accusatory finger in his partner's face. "Melissa's not that type of girl. We went to her apartment and had tea."

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Gus pretended not to hear him. "We talked until three in the morning. She's a very interesting girl."

"Well, _there's_ a word." Shawn replied sarcastically.

"She collects vintage comic books."

Shawn paused. "Marry that woman."

"That's what I thought."

~P~

"Mrs. Rabinovich, is it?" Lassiter questioned the young woman before him. Juliet stood slightly behind.

"Ms." she corrected.

"All right." Lassiter slapped a file down on the table between them. "Says here that two years ago, you assumed an alias and left the country. But you were never divorced."

Alina leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table. "We weren't really married. We were living together, but Norman didn't want anyone to talk," she said in a thick Russian accent. "So we pretended that we had a quiet ceremony, and we faked a marriage license."

"And…?"

Alina's mouth turned down into a frown. "Norman was a cheating bastard. When I found out about it, I changed my name and went back to Russia. For a fresh start."

"And you just so happen to show up again when he gets murdered?" Juliet spoke up, approaching the table.

"I didn't come until after I'd heard! I wanted to pay my respects. We were together for three years, after all."

Lassiter pulled back a chair and sat down. He knit his fingers together, a smug grin on his face. "We know you've been in the country for two weeks."

Alina looked away for a moment. "All right, I know this looks bad…"

"It looks more than bad. It looks incriminating." Juliet pointed out. "Unless you can provide a good witness to where you were the night of the murder,"

"I-I've mostly been alone all this time," Alina stuttered, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ears.

Lassiter shared a quick look with his partner. "Well then, things aren't looking too good for you."

~P~

"I've got to go." Gus announced suddenly as they walked out of the room.

"What? You just got here!" Shawn replied.

"I'm meeting Melissa."

Shawn rolled his eyes. This Melissa chick was really starting to get on his nerves, and he'd barely met her. But, knowing Gus, he was going to be head-over-heels in love with her for a while. That meant Shawn was on his own.

"Why can't we just bring her with us?" Shawn suggested.

"Because I don't know if this is getting serious or not, and I'm not going to risk her meeting you before it does." Gus said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks, Gus. I'm flattered. Have you been rehearsing that line?" Shawn said sarcastically. "But we still have a lot of work to do."

"Shawn, the case is closed! Alina did it!"

"I'm still not sure."

"What more do you need? A written confession?"

"That would be good."

Gus rolled his eyes and went for the front exit.

"Fine, Gus! I'll solve it myself!"

"Solve what yourself?" Juliet asked as she walked by.

Shawn followed her to her desk. "The Conway murder,"

Juliet shook her head as she sat down. "Shawn, we're fairly certain about Alina. Any more investigating would be a waste—"

"A waste of time, I know." Shawn finished for her. "That's all I've been hearing for the past few days."

"Where did Gus go?"

"Out with Melissa,"

"The squirrelly girl?"

"Yes. Can we stop talking about that?"

"All right. Alina had means, motive, and opportunity," Juliet went on, sifting through a huge stack of files on her desk. "She was clearly angry that Conway cheated on her. Plus, she's been in the country for two weeks with no alibi. It's hard to look much guiltier."

Shawn sat on the edge of Juliet's desk. "Maybe that's the point. How can a person be so guilty?"

"When they are?"

"When they aren't." Shawn said after some thought.

"I'm not following."

"I think…" Shawn paused, looking Juliet in the eye, "she was framed."

~P~

Henry had just unwrapped his thawed steaks when the doorbell rang. He sighed and quickly jogged to answer it.

"Hey, Pops, I've got a problem."

"Shawn, I don't have time—"

But Shawn had already walked past his father into the house. Henry sighed again. He was not going to get to grill in peace today. "You know, I retired for a reason, Shawn." Henry said half-heartedly. Working for the police department again had made him realize how much he enjoyed it, but it was just too stressful. So when Shawn came to him with a case, Henry was secretly very interested. "What am I helping you with this time?"

Shawn took a seat at the kitchen table as Henry tended to his steaks. "Conway murder,"

Henry nodded, remembering the coverage on the news. "What about it?"

"It's our suspect, the wife – sort of. She almost seems too guilty. I'm starting to think she was framed."

"Whoa, now, that's not a theory you just throw around." Henry advised, taking his own place at the table. "It takes a lot of planning and scheming to frame someone. You've got to have a lot of skill to make it convincing."

"I know. But I have someone in mind."

"Not the business partner," Henry replied.

"Yes, but he has an alibi. Not a very good one, but he does have one."

"Well, what is it?"

"He was home with his wife watching _The Voice_. The housekeeper vouched for him."

Henry joined Shawn at the table. "Okay, so there's a descriptive detail in there. She could've just said he was watching TV, but she remembered which show. That's a sign of a good alibi."

"So it's either true, or they did that on purpose."

"Right. But the odds of the latter are slim. The business partner would've had to know that he needed that extra detail. And he also would've had to bribe or blackmail the housekeeper. And he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to know that."

"No, he doesn't."

"So what does that leave you with?" Henry proposed.

"I guess the new suspect."

Henry nodded. "Look, Shawn, your gut isn't always right. Blaming the guy on a whim based on a wild accusation is just reckless and unprofessional. What you really need to be doing is finding some more evidence on your new suspect."

Shawn slapped the table as he stood up. "Well, I'm going it on my own."

"Where is Gus?"

Shawn smirked. "Probably buying nuts."

~P~


	6. Chapter 6: Burton Guster:Werewolf Hunter

**A/N: Dudes, I was on a roll. I literally wrote this chapter in one sitting. I couldn't keep you in suspense for too long! As always, I love reviews, and corrective criticism is appreciated! Enjoy, my lovelies.**

Chapter 6

Shawn was just drifting off on the couch in the office when his phone rang. He sighed and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, squinting at the glow of his cell phone. It was Juliet.

"Hey Jules," Shawn answered.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Kind of. What's up?"

"It's about Alina."

"The new suspect?" Shawn asked, sitting up.

"Yes. She just confessed."

"Wow…that's great. I guess the case really is solved then." Shawn was slightly disappointed. He wanted so badly to be right about Tucker.

"Not quite," Juliet said regretfully, "She didn't confess to the murder. It was another crime. Apparently, she's been involved in that counterfeit money business. That's why she didn't want to give us an alibi. But she gave us the names of her partners, and when we brought them in, they confessed too."

Shawn ran a hand through his hair. "Back to square one,"

"I'm afraid so."

Shawn didn't want to admit it aloud, but he was secretly a little glad Alina wasn't guilty, at least not of the murder.

"Hey, Jules, have you eaten?"

"No, but I'm going out with Josh later. Sorry,"

Shawn didn't say anything for a second.

"Shawn? Are you okay?"

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts. "Yeah, yeah, of course,"

"Really? Because I've been under the impression that you're upset with me. It's because of Josh, isn't it?" Juliet said knowingly.

Shawn shrugged. "I don't know. It's just…you broke up with me because you wanted to be friends again. And I'm trying to do that, but every time I try, you're doing something with Josh."

"Look, Shawn, I've only been dating him for a week. We're still trying to get to know each other better. We'll do things together again soon. I promise. Hey, maybe we can even go on a double date."

Shawn smirked. He hadn't exactly been looking for a date since he and Juliet broke up. He was almost ready to accept the single life permanently. But he didn't have the heart to tell Juliet. She'd feel bad.

"Maybe we can."

~P~

Shawn shot a text to Gus as he finished his pineapple smoothie. He didn't expect Gus to reply. It was mostly out of boredom.

He yawned and stretched back out on the couch. He'd been ready for a nap for the past few hours, and now he was determined to get it.

The cell phone sounded its familiar jingle. Shawn's eyes snapped open.

"Really?" he cried. He nabbed the phone, finding that it was Henry. "This had better be important, Dad."

"Shawn, I just remembered something." Henry sounded breathless.

"That you didn't get me a present for my eighth birthday? I remember too."

"Shut up, Shawn. I got you a present."

"The college algebra book? That wasn't a gag gift?"

"Shawn…" Henry got flustered, realizing that he'd gotten way off subject, "It's about Tucker's alibi."

That grabbed Shawn's attention. "I'm listening."

"_The Voice _wasn't on for more than five minutes that night. It got interrupted by the news coverage of the earthquake in Los Angeles."

"Wait…you watch _The Voice_?"

"Shawn, are you listening to me at all? Tucker's alibi is flawed. It may be just a small flaw, but if he really did make up the alibi, he'll get flustered when you ask him about it."

"For once, Dad, I'm really glad you watch shows for middle-aged women."

"I'll have you know that — "

Shawn hung up and quickly darted out the door. He had to tell the Gus, and fast.

~P~

Gus and Melissa sat sipping tea at a table outside a dainty café. Gus smiled.

"You know, Melissa, the way the light shines on your hair makes you look like an angel."

Melissa reached up to her blonde curls, grinning bashfully. "Oh, Burton, you're such a charmer." She placed her cup carefully on the saucer and leaned her elbows on the table. "So tell me about your job."

"Which one?" Gus smiled.

Melissa laughed. "Your detective thing. It sounds so exciting."

"Oh, well, it is pretty interesting. And you know it can sometimes be dangerous. Kidnappers, murderers…not to mention werewolves."

Melissa's eyes widened. "Really?"

Gus cleared his throat and shifted. "Well…actually it was a crazy guy in wolf fur, but someday we might have to battle a real one."

"That's fascinating," Melissa said in awe.

Gus shrugged modestly, meanwhile swelling with pride. "I suppose it is kind of fascinating," he replied, raising his tea cup to his lips. He was interrupted by his dinging cell phone. This was the second time Shawn had texted him.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" Melissa asked.

"Oh, it's just Shawn being irritating…as usual."

"Maybe it has something to do with the case."

Gus considered that for a moment. She was right. Maybe it was important. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and examined the message.

_New evidence on Tucker. Meet me at his house_

Gus rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable," he mumbled.

"What is it, Burton?"

Gus looked up. "Shawn seems to think your boss, Mr. Tucker, is the murderer."

Melissa looked shocked. "Really? Mr. Tucker?"

"But I don't believe it at all." Gus said quickly. "And neither does anyone else. Shawn just got a hunch, and now he won't let it go."

Melissa shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe he's right. He is a psychic, after all. Doesn't he get visions or something?"

"Yes, but sometimes they're unclear, and he has trouble deciphering them. I wouldn't worry about Mr. Tucker."

Gus's phone dinged again. _He wasnt at the house. Housekpr hasnt seen him. Says he has a cabin. Meet me at the dept._

Gus sighed. He was not about to go on a wild goose chase. _Give it up, Shawn. I'm not doing this again._

He turned his phone down to silent and looked back up. "Where were we?"

"What did Shawn say?"

Gus frowned. Shawn was encroaching on their conversation, and he wasn't even there! "He said he was going to Tucker's cabin to look for him. I can't believe how stupid he's being about this."

Melissa smiled. "Don't give up on Shawn yet. Maybe he's onto something." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, I forgot, I was supposed to feed my neighbor's cat for her today. I really have to go. I'll call you, okay?"

"Do you have to go now?"

"Sorry," she said, grabbing her purse. Gus hopped up to pull back her chair for her. "I promised I would do it. My neighbor's really sick in the hospital."

"Oh, well, maybe we could visit her sometime."

"Maybe so. Goodbye, Burton." Melissa waved as she walked to her car. Gus waved back. He really liked her. Too bad Shawn was the last thing they talked about.

~P~

_Give it up, Shawn. I'm not doing this again._

Shawn let out an exasperated sigh as he climbed the steps of the police department. He should've known Gus wouldn't listen. He was probably out with Melissa, making googly eyes at her, coming up with names for their children in his head. Gus was one of the most dependable people Shawn knew…when he wasn't chasing after a girl.

No matter; he still had Juliet. She'd probably go with him, even if just out of guilt.

But when Shawn approached her desk, she was gone. He quickly walked over to Lassiter's desk.

"Hey, Lassie, where's Jules?"

Lassiter threw Shawn an annoyed glance. "Gathering evidence from the counterfeit bust,"

Shawn shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"No. What are you so anxious about?"

"I have a lead on the Conway case."

Lassiter looked doubtful. "Really,"

"Look, I know you don't have any faith in me…at all…but I need your help. I don't exactly want to face a murderer all alone, and you have a gun."

Lassiter bit his lip. He really didn't like the idea of a car ride with Shawn, but if he really did have a lead, they needed it. After Alina provided an alibi, they were back at the beginning once again.

"Please," Shawn asked again. "We don't have time to just sit here."

"All right, fine," Lassiter gave in. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair as he followed Shawn out the door. He had to practically run to keep up. "Wait a minute; who exactly is the suspect here?"

"Tucker," Shawn called back.

Lassiter stopped in his tracks. "What?"

Shawn sighed as he turned around. "This is why I didn't tell you right away. I'll explain it on the way." Lassiter didn't move. Shawn gave him another pleading look. "Will you just trust me? This once?"

Lassiter thought for a moment. He was going to regret this. "…You'd better not be wrong."

"Atta boy, Lassie! I knew you'd come through for me!"

"Don't get used to it."

~P~

Shawn leaned forward, peering out the window at the trees. "It should be back here somewhere."

"So let me get this straight: Your lead is based off a TV show?"

"That's just the icing on the cake, Lassie. Or maybe just the cherry on top. Tucker was angry with Conway for selling their company without telling him. So he went to his house to confront him. They were friends; Conway let him in. That's why the alarm wasn't tripped.

"They got into an argument, and Tucker went crazy. He grabbed the nearest weapon — a knife — and wailed on him. After he realized what he'd done, he erased the film on the security camera and took off. He made up an alibi and likely bribed the housekeeper to vouch for him."

Though Lassiter would hate to admit it, the story did make a lot of sense. And they'd doubted Shawn the whole time.

"There it is," Shawn spoke up, pointing out the window. The cabin was on a slight hill, hidden mostly by trees. "If I'm right, he's gone here to hide out, and he's gonna make a run for it soon."

"I'll park here so he doesn't see us."

The two of them made their way through the thick trees, leaves crunching beneath their feet. A glint of metal suddenly caught Shawn's eye. He held up a hand, signaling for Lassiter to stop.

"What is it?" the detective asked.

Shawn pointed to the ground. Covered slightly by brown leaves was a knife. It has a slightly red residue on it, as if someone had tried to quickly smear it clean with the leaves.

"Looks like blood," Lassiter spoke up.

Shawn nodded, feeling his throat constrict. He still had some doubts about his conclusion, but now he was certain. "The knife matches the others that Conway had."

"One was missing," Lassiter pointed out.

The click of a gun caused them both to whirl around.

"Good job, boys," the gun wielder said with a sneer.

Shawn swallowed, finding that his throat was dry.

"Melissa?"


	7. Chapter 7: Cannibalism and Friendship

**A/N: A lovely long chapter for my lovelies. Sorry it took so long, but it's freakin' three thousand something words, and I have finals to worry about! Whew. Anyway, enjoy, review, look both ways, and eat your vegetables.**

Chapter 7

Gus climbed the steps to the police department at a quicker pace than normal. Shawn hadn't answered any of his texts in the past hour. Of course, he could've just been mad that Gus wasn't on board with his latest crazy theory, but that didn't explain why Gus couldn't find him. He wasn't at the Psych office, he wasn't home, and he wasn't at any of the various food stands he frequented, so he'd have to still be at the department, where he'd told Gus to meet him.

"Juliet," Gus called, walking swiftly down the hallway to catch up with her. She had a stack of files in her arms and seemed to be in a hurry.

"Hey, Gus. You wouldn't happen to have seen Detective Lassiter around here, have you?"

Gus frowned. "I was just about to ask you if you'd seen Shawn."

He followed her into the file room, where she dropped the stack in a drawer with a huff.

"That's weird," she commented, brushing hair out of her face. The two of them made their way back to Juliet's desk. "I'd never assume they'd be in the same place on purpose, but if neither of us can find them, it makes sense that they would be together. But where?"

Gus dug his phone out of his pocket. "Well, Shawn said something about getting a lead on Tucker. The housekeeper didn't know where he was, but he does have a cabin."

"Well, that's probably where they went. Any idea where it is?"

Gus shook his head guiltily. "I kind of brushed him off. He's been obsessed with this guy, and we know he didn't do it."

Juliet shrugged. "I don't know, Gus. I doubted him, but if he's desperate enough to ask for Lassiter's help, then he may have something good on Tucker."

"What about Tucker?" Chief Vick asked as she approached Juliet's desk.

"Shawn went looking for him at his cabin. He really thinks Tucker did it." Juliet replied.

"Well, he's not going to find him there." the chief pointed out. "Both he and his wife are at the reading of Conway's will."

Gus and Juliet shared a disappointed look. So Tucker wasn't on the run after all, and Shawn was still chasing ghosts.

"O'Hara, how is the counterfeit case going?" Chief Vick spoke up again.

"Oh very well, Chief. Open and shut," she replied.

"Good. I only wish the Conway case were so easy." Chief Vick mentioned as she rushed off in the direction of her office.

Gus and Juliet sat in silence for a moment. They both silently vowed not to be worried about their partners. Soon, Shawn and Lassiter would realize that Tucker wasn't at the cabin, and they'd come back.

Still, something didn't feel quite right.

~P~

"Good job, boys," Melissa said with a spiteful grin.

"Melissa?" Shawn whispered in astonishment.

"Oh, don't look so surprised, Shawn. It's not as if you've been suspecting another person this whole time…oh wait…" She let out a hearty laugh.

Taking the moment of distraction as an opportunity to act, Lassiter went for his gun. But Melissa was quickly onto him, aiming her own gun more steadily. Lassiter froze in mid-draw.

"Ah, ah, ah… Let's not be hasty now." She stepped forward and retrieved Lassiter's gun, tucking it safely in her waistband. "We've got to get to know each other first before any shooting happens."

Shawn shared a look with Lassiter. This chick was crazy.

"Now, I've got to say, I thought I was pretty clever. You all were chasing other people this whole time! But I couldn't have you snooping around here, you see, because I seem to have made a small error. The knife is perfect evidence to blame Tucker, but I forgot to get those pesky finger prints off of it. Can't have you finding that little bit of information, can we?"

"What about Gus?" Shawn spoke up, trying his hardest to buy them time.

"Oh, Gus…cute, but _such _a bore. He was just a distraction. Because you'd never suspect your best friend's date, would you? Man, I'm clever. If only I'd remembered to wipe off those prints…"

"But Tucker…how did you frame him? How did you do that?"

Melissa smiled. "Shawn, sometimes it's the information that isn't shared that's the most convincing. Norman promised the Tuckers they'd have jobs in his up-and-coming business. He left it to them in his will."

Shawn swallowed. "But how did you get the alibi to fall through?"

"Oh, now that's just really good luck. Really good luck."

"Look, lady, all you can accomplish by killing us is getting two more murders on your record." Lassiter spoke up.

"Dude, really? You ever consider she _wasn't_ going to shoot us?" Shawn cried.

"Her aiming a gun at us kind of gave me that impression!"

"It doesn't mean she plans on killing us!"

"She already killed one guy. Killing us couldn't be too hard."

"What is this? Killer counseling?"

"Will you two shut _up_ already?" Melissa shouted. "You're making it very hard for me to _resist_ shooting you."

"Well, if you are going to kill us, just tell me one thing first: Why? Why did you murder Norman Conway?" Shawn asked.

Melissa chuckled. "You're some psychic, aren't you? Okay, I'll tell you, since I can't really be out writing memoirs. Norman and I were lovers." Melissa shook her head. "It was perfect…or at least it _would_ have been if Alina hadn't gotten in the way. Norman didn't really love her. Why else would he have insisted they fake their marriage? Well, he wouldn't dump her, so I dumped him. Later, so did she. Serves him right. But then I heard that Little Miss Russian Doll was back in town, and he'd been looking for her.

"I went to his house to confront him, but he just wouldn't listen. He was so stubborn. Wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Well, you know something? Neither did I." Melissa laughed. "So here we are. Just you two and me and this gun. Just a couple of trigger pulls, and I could be done with the both of you." She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, but that would be much too messy. I've got a better idea." She waved her gun at them. "Turn around, the both of you. Hands where I can see them."

Shawn's heartbeat quickened. He didn't like the prospect of having his back to a crazed killer, but she did say she didn't want to shoot them. Of course, it could've been a ruse. What kind of person was he to trust a murderer?

"Come on, boys; I don't have all day."

Shawn looked at Lassiter questioningly. The detective nodded just slightly. He knew it was a lot smarter of them to obey her and have a chance to live than to disobey her and have no chance at all.

Melissa led them into the cabin, down a dark flight of stairs, lit by a single dim bulb. A dark, dank pit of a room awaited them at the bottom. Melissa waved her gun towards the pitch-black space, indicating for them to go inside.

"Cell phones, please. Can't have you breaking up the party, can I?" She collected their phones and smiled. "As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I have a few errands to run. Farewell, boys." With a wink, Melissa pulled the door closed. The scrape of a deadbolt echoed through the basement.

After a long pause, Shawn sniffed. "I'm sorry I brought you here."

"If you came alone, she might have just killed you."

"What do you call this?"

"Well, at least we're alive to figure out how to get out of here."

"Have you looked around? We're in a room so dark we can't see our hands in front of our faces! There is no way out of here!" Shawn breathed a laugh. "Why couldn't I have just left it alone? It obviously wasn't Tucker. I fell right into her trap."

Lassiter didn't reply. There was nothing to say. Technically, it was Shawn's fault, but he wasn't going to say one way or another—not in this situation.

"We're going to die in here." Shawn said, as if the profundity of it all had suddenly hit him.

"We're not going to die. Someone will find us."

Shawn shook his head. It was times like these that he really wished he was psychic.

~P~

"Gus, don't get so worked up. I'm sure they're fine." Juliet said.

Gus was pacing in front of Juliet's desk, as he had been for the past fifteen minutes.

"They've been gone for three hours, Juliet. Something happened."

Juliet bit her lip. Secretly, she'd been thinking the same thing. She knew that technically they weren't considered missing until it had been twenty-four hours, but if something had happened, that was too long to wait.

"Give them a couple more hours," Juliet spoke up half-heartedly.

"Any word?" Chief Vick asked as she approached them.

Juliet shook her head. "I'm getting worried. Either one of them should have called or texted by now."

"Well, if they're not back by morning, we're looking for them." the chief said firmly. She was clearly just as anxious as Gus and Juliet, but she didn't want to waste the department resources that _weren't_ missing.

"Maybe you should call Shawn's dad. Maybe he's heard from him." Juliet suggested.

Gus winced. "I don't know. If he gets the idea that Shawn's missing, he might go a little crazy."

"Just try to keep it casual. Don't say anything that might worry him. This is the last shot we have, Gus."

Gus nodded. Maybe Shawn had contacted Henry, since Gus hadn't been listening to him. Gus felt a twinge of guilt as he had the thought. If only he'd paid attention… But it was too late for regrets now. Gus pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Henry's number.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Spencer, hi, it's Gus. I was wondering if you've heard from Shawn recently."

"No. Why? What's wrong?"

Gus bit his lip. The goal was to _not_ worry him. "Well, he was following a lead, and we haven't heard back from him in a little while."

"How long is a little while?"

"Oh, just a little over…three hours," Gus mumbled.

"Are you at the department? I'm coming down there." Henry replied, not waiting for an answer.

"Now, don't get upset—" Gus suddenly heard a long beep in his ear. Henry had hung up. Gus sighed. "Well, that's great."

"What did he say?" Juliet asked.

"He hasn't heard from Shawn. But he's coming here."

"I thought I told you not to worry him!"

"It's hard not to worry when it's your son. If I know anything about Mr. Spencer, it's that he worries about Shawn more than he lets on."

~P~

After quite a while, Shawn and Lassiter's eyes adjusted to the darkness. They sat on the floor, back to back, not saying a word. Lassiter was plotting an escape, while Shawn was brooding over the stupid mistake that had gotten them there in the first place.

Shawn eventually cleared his throat. "Hey, Lassie?"

"What?"

"If we don't make it—"

"Don't say that."

"Will you just hear me out? I want to say this before you eat me. Well, assuming I don't eat you first. Okay, I'll make you a deal: We'll eat my feet, then yours. We'll have to see what happens after that."

"Will you just get _on_ with it?" Lassiter exclaimed.

"All right, I—I just wanted you to know that…even though I mock and annoy you relentlessly…I think you're a really good detective."

Lassiter didn't reply for a second. "No kidding?"

"No, I mean it."

"Well…thanks." Lassiter muttered somewhat awkwardly. He paused. "I still don't think you're psychic."

"I know." Shawn half-smiled. He knew what Lassiter really meant.

~P~

Gus had waited another hour with Henry and Juliet before he'd decided to go. Chief Vick had given Lassiter and Shawn until the morning before they'd start searching. Until then, there was nothing Gus could do at the department.

Gus had decided to pay Melissa a visit. He needed someone to take his mind off of his missing partner. Besides, she hadn't called him as promised. She probably just forgot.

Gus knocked on Melissa's apartment door and stepped back. There was no reply. That was odd. Perhaps she was still at her neighbor's apartment. Gus knocked on that door, and a middle-aged woman answered.

"Oh, hello. Is Melissa here?"

"No. Why would she be?" the woman replied snappily. "Don't you know it's ten o'clock at night?"

"I apologize." Gus said with a guilty smile. "And I'm glad to see that you've recovered enough to go home."

"What are you talking about?"

"Melissa said you were in the hospital. And she was taking care of your cat." Gus clarified, a confused look crossing his face.

"I've never been sick a day in my life, and I don't _have_ a cat. Boy, you need to have your head checked. And you need to learn some proper manners!" With that, the woman briskly shut her door.

The wheels in Gus's mind were whirring. Why would Melissa lie? What had they been talking about in the café before she left?

Gus's eyes widened as his stream of thoughts suddenly clicked into place like puzzle pieces.

"Shawn."

~P~

Shawn pulled his knees to his chest. It was so cold. If starvation didn't kill them first, hypothermia would. He looked behind him, stricken with a pang of fear when he saw that Lassiter wasn't there. Had he found a way out and left him there? Shawn quickly dismissed that idea. Lassiter wouldn't have left even _him_ in this forsaken place.

"Lassie?"

"Right here," he replied, resuming his place on the floor. "I was looking for another door."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. You cold?"

Shawn nodded. "You?"

"Not too bad. Here," Lassiter took off his jacket and placed it around Shawn's shoulders.

"Thanks," Shawn said, a little taken aback. Lassiter had been awfully nice to him since they got into this mess. Maybe he was trying to take away some of the guilt Shawn was feeling. Whatever it was, Shawn was grateful. They were a lot more productive this way than if they were arguing.

~P~

"Hello?" Juliet answered her phone. "Whoa, Gus, slow down."

"There's no time. I know who the killer is!" Gus claimed breathlessly.

"Who?"

"It's Melissa!"

"The squirrelly girl? Aren't you dating her?"

Gus exhaled. "_Was_. I don't typically like to date people who kidnap my best friend. Now, come on. I'll meet you at the department."

"Wait a minute, Gus. The chief said we were waiting until morning. She's not going to let us go."

"But now we know who it is!"

"Look, Gus, I don't doubt you, but we're going to need evidence first. A wild goose chase is what caused Shawn and Lassiter to go missing in the first place."

"They're our partners, Juliet."

She sighed. "I know. Don't think I'm not with you one hundred percent, because I am. Or, I would be. We've got to wait."

"I don't see why Chief Vick wouldn't let us go."

"We're having a busy night, and we're obviously short-staffed with Lassiter gone. We need all of the manpower we can get." Juliet paused as an idea popped into her head. "Tell you what, Gus; why don't you come back? You can help with some of the more mundane tasks, and you can fill me in about Melissa."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

~P~

"…And so I decided to do a little research." Gus continued, "Remember when Alina Rabinovich said that Conway cheated on her?" Juliet nodded. "Well, I just assumed it was the other mistress we'd suspected after we questioned the Nail It employees. But I called her again, and it turns out, Conway has had several girlfriends, even while he was supposedly married to Alina. And it turns out that Melissa was one of them. He'd hired her as a secretary while they were dating, and once he broke up with her, he didn't fire her because it would draw more attention to the affair."

"But why would Melissa want to murder him after all this time?" Juliet interjected.

"See, that's what I was wondering too. But I can only figure one thing: Alina left Conway, right?"

"Right,"

"I'm thinking that he heard she was back in the States, and he contacted her, or at least tried to."

"And Melissa got angry with him." Juliet deduced.

"That's what I'm thinking."

Juliet closed a case file and deposited it onto a growing stack. It was after midnight now. Five hours since their partners had disappeared.

"Gus?" Juliet said in a small voice. "What if…well, if she'd kill Conway, what do you think she did with…?"

"Don't even think that." Gus interrupted. "Shawn and Lassiter are alive and well, and we're going to find them."

"I just hope they can last another five hours without us…"

~P~

Shawn wished for light—any kind at all. They'd been stuck in that crypt for what had to have been hours, and though Shawn's vision had adjusted quite well, that didn't stop his eyes from creating startling figures out of the shadows.

"I never thought it would end like this."

"Not again. Please."

"I thought I'd have lived a more fulfilling life by now. A wife, a couple of kids…maybe I would've even become a full-fledged detective." Shawn waited for a retort from Lassiter, but it never came. "And I would've died peacefully with my family and friends all around me…nice and calm, in my sleep." Shawn pondered the thought for a moment. "Is it weird that I have my death planned out?"

"I've thought about it myself."

"Yeah?"

"Well, mostly I just wonder what it would be like to be shot. I mean, not just a graze. Actually _shot_."

"I wouldn't want to die that way."

"Better than being stabbed."

"I suppose so." Shawn sighed. "I guess it's not really even death that I worry about. It's the pain. Well, I don't know. Death kind of scares me too. I mean, nobody really knows what happens, at least not the details. Do you believe in the afterlife, Lassie?"

"I'm not sure. I'd like to think there is."

"I guess that's human nature. We don't like to think that we're finite." Shawn swallowed. "I feel like I've wasted most of my life. There's so much I could've done. I could've become a cop like my dad wanted me to. I wasted months in love with someone who ended up not loving me back."

When Lassiter didn't reply, Shawn smiled.

"Sorry. It's just…in stressful situations, I start talking and I don't stop."

"When do you ever stop?"

"Okay, I asked for that one." Shawn admitted. "Look at us, having a nice 'getting-to-know-you' session. You know what I think, though?"

"Hm,"

"I think it's sad that it took a psycho murderer locking us in a basement for us to sit down and have a civil conversation. And we're not even arguing or anything. I think that we just let our differences drive a wedge between us. We never even gave each other a chance."

Lassiter looked a little remorseful. "You know, I always thought you were just an immature yokel. But maybe I've been the immature one."

Shawn snickered. "Yokel,"

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "And then again, maybe not."

"You can't just say a word like 'yokel' and expect me to stay serious." Shawn insisted. "Are we friends or what?"

"Yeah. I guess we are."

~P~


	8. Chapter 8: Hey, Look! Impending Doom!

**A/N: Um…hi. Long time no see. I am so sorry about the massive delay, but I have several valid excuses, and their names are two stomach viruses, gall bladder issues, and a week-long cold that has yet to go away. But you didn't come here for Fluffy's daily medical report. On with the story! (I'm also sorry about the short chapter. I'll try to update soon!)**

Chapter 8

Shawn woke up with a sharp ache in his neck. He had been leaning against the wall for hours, his head falling slightly forward. Shawn rubbed the sore spot, silently cursing himself for getting in that awful position. He was going to need a chiropractor…if they ever got out of there.

All of that talk about death had gotten his stomach in knots. He wasn't sure how he'd ever fallen asleep, but he'd been in the dark so long, it was bound to happen.

Now that he thought about it, it wasn't so dark after all. Maybe he'd just been staring at the backs of his eyelids so long that the rest of the room was lighter in comparison. He shook his head. That was just too dumb to be true.

Suddenly, he saw it: a faint rim of blue on the wall across the room. Light!

"Dude!" Shawn reached over and smacked Lassiter.

"Watch it—!"

"Just look! Look!" Shawn frantically pointed at the opposite wall. "Do you see that? It has to be a window! We have a way out!"

"I hate to burst your bubble, but in case you haven't noticed, that window is at least three feet above our heads. And it's boarded up."

Shawn considered that for a moment. "Okay, I have an idea."

"I don't see what you're—" Lassiter began, but he was cut off when Shawn yanked him to his feet and across the room.

"You could've just asked!"

"Too time-consuming," Shawn explained. "Let me get on your shoulders."

"_What_?"

"I could reach the window. There's probably just plywood over it. How hard could it be to get that off?"

Lassiter examined the window for a moment. "All right. Just make it quick. I don't know how long I could hold you."

"What are you trying to say?" Shawn responded with a smirk. "Give me a boost."

Shawn thought getting on Lassiter's shoulders was going to be the hard part, but the plywood was harder to remove than he'd anticipated.

"Hurry up!"

"Just _give_ me a minute. It won't budge!"

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "I'm going to need a chiropractor."

"That makes two of us." Shawn mumbled. The wood suddenly snapped off in his hands, almost sending him tumbling back. "Got it," he said feebly.

"You don't say,"

"I'll pull you up," Shawn said, already halfway through the window.

"Wait a minute! Are you sure you can?"

"Easily. Do you know how many times I've been in this situation with Gus? Grab my hands." Shawn offered, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. Lassiter complied, though reluctantly.

This was another thing that Shawn had underestimated. He was huffing and puffing by the time he got Lassiter through.

"Easily, huh?"

"Shut up…" Shawn muttered. "So now what?"

"Run,"

~P~

Melissa paced the cabin floor, stepping over a spot that creaked. She'd walked that floor so much that she knew every nook and cranny. She'd been too paranoid to sleep.

She couldn't have gone back home; Gus was probably looking for her. At the same time, leaving without a trace did look pretty incriminating. So she guessed she was stuck there until she could think of somewhere better to go.

Melissa glanced out the window. It was early in the morning. The sky was a dreary white-blue. She could barely see two figures running across the clearing. That was odd. Hardly anyone knew about this spot…

Melissa's eyes widened. "Damn it! How? _How_?" She retrieved her gun from the kitchen table and took off out the back door.

~P~

Shawn's heart leaped as he heard bullets flying overhead. "She's still _here_?"

"Nowhere else to go," Lassiter rationalized.

"Zigzag!" Shawn cried between breaths.

"Right," Lassiter grabbed Shawn's wrist and led him into the woods, darting between the trees. They hid behind a larger one once they got deep enough into the woods. They would have to catch their breath before they took off again.

Lassiter happened to glance at his hand, startled to find it coated in blood. But it wasn't his own.

"Uh, Spencer…"

"What?"

"Your wrist,"

Shawn looked down. "Huh. I guess I cut it on the glass outside the window."

"How did you not feel that?"

"Adrenaline does wonders."

They froze when they heard the frantic crackle of leaves. "I know you're out there." Melissa's voice warned. "Why couldn't you have been good boys and stayed where I put you? Now things are going to have to get messy!"

Shawn looked around aimlessly, though he knew they were out of options. All he could do now was squeeze his eyes shut and pray for a miracle.

~P~

Henry slapped a baseball cap on his head and burst into the police department. It was already ten after six and he'd be damned if he would wait any longer. His son was missing, and he was going to find him with or without the help of the police.

He was a little relieved to find Juliet and Gus in the chief's office, along with McNab and a couple of other officers. At least they were planning on some sort of action.

Henry tramped right into Chief Vick's office uninvited. She stopped mid-sentence, clearly aggravated by the interruption.

"Mr. Spencer, I don't recall inviting you here."

"Yeah, neither do I," he shot back. "And I'm a little annoyed. You're all just standing around while anything could be happening out there."

"We're going over procedure, Henry. I'm not going to have any mishaps. You of all people should understand that!"

"My son is out there!"

"And that's exactly why I didn't call you! We've been in similar situations before, and you don't tend to be calm under this sort of pressure."

"Last time, I was the one who helped to find him."

The chief stopped and thought for a moment. "All right. You have a point. I'll let you come along. But _don't_ be a hindrance. Now let's go find our detectives."

~P~


	9. Chapter 9: One Good Shot

**A/N: Well, then…remember when I said I'd update soon? Um…I lied? Sorry about that, guys. Christmas, school, and a blasted cold got in the way. That, and I procrastinate like a fiend. A rather short chapter, but I think you'll be okay ;)**

Chapter 9

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Melissa sang.

Shawn had broken out into a cold sweat. He didn't know if it was from fear, blood loss, or both. They couldn't run now. Even with the cover of the trees, they could still be hit by stray bullets.

"What do we do now?" Shawn whispered.

"I…I don't know." Lassiter replied.

The sound of crunching leaves grew louder and louder, in rhythm with Shawn's pounding heart. "We can't just stay here. We're sitting ducks."

"Where can we go?"

"You're the detective! You're supposed to know what to do!" Shawn whispered fiercely.

"You're supposed to know the future. A lot of good that's done!"

"It doesn't work like that—"

"I'm getting impatient, boys!" Melissa called out. She couldn't have been more than ten feet away.

"Remember what I said about not really fearing death?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah?"

"I was wrong."

~P~

The chief's car rumbled down a narrow dirt road. Gus sat in the back, fear turning his stomach. He'd tried to look hopeful for Juliet's sake, but truthfully, he wondered if they were too late.

He blamed himself for trusting Melissa. Why was it that he couldn't date anyone who wasn't either insane or a murderer? Or both?

"We'll stop here." the chief announced. "We should be out of sight from the cabin."

"What do you want me to do?" Gus asked.

Chief Vick turned back and gave Gus a stern look. "I want you to stay here. I'm not putting another civilian in danger." She shared a look with Juliet. "Let's go."

The two women stepped out of the car and into the brush. The dim morning light shining through the trees gave them just enough light to see by. They didn't make it a few steps before Henry stomped up to them.

"What's this about leaving me behind?"

The chief refrained from rolling her eyes. "I went against my better judgment bringing you here in the first place. In case you've forgotten, you're a civilian now."

"I'm better with a gun than most of these numbskulls." Henry insisted, jerking a thumb towards the cluster of young officers behind him.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer, but I'm putting my foot down." Chief Vick said through tight lips. "Now, are you going to let me do my job or not?"

Henry opened his mouth as if to speak, but it was obvious that he'd lost this time.

~P~

"Do you think we should make a run for it?" Shawn whispered.

"She doesn't know where we are now. I'd like to keep it that way."

"I can't just stand here, Lassie."

"Do you have a better idea?" Lassiter snapped.

"No," Shawn mumbled.

"Drop the weapon!" a sudden voice yelled.

Shawn and Lassiter looked at each other. They knew that voice.

"It's about time, Juliet!" Shawn said under his breath.

The sound of a gunshot filled the air. It was a little soon to be relieved. Melissa wasn't about to go down without a fight. The chief, Juliet, and the other officers took cover behind the trees, as did Melissa.

"Boy, talk about being caught in the crossfire." Shawn commented, sliding down to the ground. "Is that woman insane?"

"What was your first clue?" Lassiter replied. "The murder or her locking us in a cellar?"

"Lassiter!" the chief called. She tossed the detective a gun.

"Much better," He grinned, purely enjoying the feel of a gun in his hands again.

"Don't I get a gun?" Shawn whined.

"Not on your life." Lassiter objected immediately, aiming around the tree.

Melissa barely darted out of the way and into the underbrush. She was clearly shocked at gunfire coming from that direction. With gritted teeth, she fired a few rounds in return.

Shawn hugged his knees to his chest. In truth, he was almost more scared now than he was before. He didn't like the odds that he'd get hit with a stray bullet. He also didn't like how exposed Lassiter was to Melissa's line of fire.

"Just a speculation," Shawn yelled over the sound of shooting, "You're not bulletproof, you know."

"What's your point?"

"You're too close to the edge."

"I can take care of myself, Spencer."

A bullet flew over Shawn's head, causing him to duck and squeeze his hands over his ears. "Do you mind? I thought you were supposed to be saving me!"

"Sorry!" McNab shouted back.

Suddenly, Shawn heard a strangled yelp beside him. Lassiter was slowly crumbling to the ground. Blood was seeping from his right side.

Shawn's heart was in his throat as he desperately crawled over. "Lassie… W-what…what am I supposed to do?"

He felt metal being pressed into his hand. The gun. Lassiter was breathing pretty hard, but he did manage to get out, "Give her hell."

Shawn didn't move at first. He didn't want to look away. Something bad could happen if he looked away.

"I'll be okay, Shawn. One good shot… That's all. Let her have it."

Shawn blinked tears from his eyes. "You bet I will." His pulse was pounding through his head as he peered around the tree and fixed his aim. Melissa was in perfect range. She wasn't even aware she was being targeted.

_Bang._ And Melissa's gun flew to the ground. She cried out, cradling her hand to her chest. A perfect hit.

Shawn almost laughed. "Wow, did you see that?" He looked back at Lassiter. His eyes were closed. Shawn practically fell back down to the ground. "Lassie? Lassie, wake up. I'm not going back alone… Don't do this to me. Please…"

~P~


	10. Chapter 10: Kidnapping Buddies

**A/N: Unbelievably short chapter, I'm afraid, but I couldn't keep you in suspense much longer. Don't worry your pretty little heads, though. Chapter 11 is already in progress. **

Chapter 10

Shawn never was much for patience. He had too quick a mind, too short an attention span. That didn't stop him from keeping a vigil at Lassiter's bedside. He was tapping his foot uncontrollably, glancing at the clock every few seconds.

_Come on, Lassie. Wake up, _he thought for about the millionth time. If anyone asked, he'd say he was simply impatient. And that was partially true—he was impatient, but that wasn't all. He was also worried.

This whole experience had forced Shawn to realize something he'd only been vaguely aware of before: He cared about Lassiter. Why? He didn't exactly have an explanation for it. He just got the feeling that there was a softer side of Lassiter, something deeper than the hard-nosed detective impression he gave off.

Shawn rubbed his bandaged wrist. After he'd gotten the five stitches, Henry had lectured him for a good ten minutes.

"_Why didn't you tell me where you were going? I could've called for backup!"_

"_The police would've done the exact same thing even if you called, Dad."_

He'd finally convinced Henry to go home. The last thing he needed was his dad breathing down his neck all day. And it had been almost all day. Several hours, at least. If Lassiter didn't wake up soon…well, he'd better wake up.

"Spencer?"

Shawn looked up. "Well, it's about time," he said with a smile.

Lassiter looked disoriented at first, but he got his bearings after a moment, once he figured out where he was and what was going on. "How long have you been sitting there?" he asked Shawn.

"Oh, not long." Shawn lied. "I thought I'd check up on you, considering we were kidnapping buddies."

Lassiter just stared back. "I don't ever want to hear those words out of your mouth again."

"How about kidnapping pals? Kidnapping cohorts? Kidnapping companions? Now this is sounding like Doctor Who."

"Spencer,"

Shawn grinned. "Maybe I should go. I'll only bother you." He started for the door.

"No," Lassiter said quickly. He cleared his throat. "I mean…you don't have to. Because…there isn't anyone else…to talk to. And I might…get bored."

"Oh…okay," Shawn took his place in the chair again. "You know, they said you'll only have to stay here overnight. But…you will need someone to take care of you for a little while."

"I see."

"So…if you'd like…I could…stay with you."

Lassiter pondered it for a moment. Shawn Spencer, in his apartment? That was a horrendous idea. Who knew what he'd break or ruin? It wasn't even an option.

"Yeah, I guess."

~P~

**A/N: You really thought I'd kill Lassie without warning you? And without sobbing uncontrollably on the floor? Come on, now. I figured you knew me better than that.**


	11. Chapter 11: Gus Can Lie?

**A/N: Short-ish chapter, because I have zero motivation. I predict the next chapter might take me a while, so enjoy for now!**

Chapter 11

"So let me get this straight…" Gus began. "You're staying _with_ Lassiter?"

"Yep," Shawn replied, propping his feet on Gus' desk. Gus smacked them off.

"You have your own desk, Shawn." Gus reminded him.

"Yes, but mine doesn't have this ergonomic cushion. I gotta get me one of these." Shawn added, spinning around in the chair.

Gus sighed. Why did he even try to have a coherent conversation with Shawn? "So how's it going?"

"Not too bad. We kind of keep our distance. I'm only there if he needs help."

Gus shook his head and sat on the couch. "It's still a little weird."

"What can I say, Gus? We've changed, at least toward each other."

"How long have you been there?"

"Oh, couple days. Why?"

"You didn't even _tell_ me?"

Shawn shrugged. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

"Not a big deal? You've hated each other for years!"

"I wouldn't say _hated_…"

"Shawn," Gus interrupted. "What's going on?"

Shawn leaned back in the chair. "Nothing,"

Gus frowned. "How long have we been friends?"

"Since birth, practically. You know that. Why?"

Gus smirked. "Because I know when you're lying."

Shawn got up and crossed the room to his own desk. "How much do those cushion things cost?" he said, surveying his chair.

"Now you're evading the question."

"Who's the one with the deductive reasoning skills again?" Shawn replied sarcastically, dropping into his own chair.

"All right, Shawn. I'll leave it alone for now. But I will find out sooner or later."

~P~

"Good news," Shawn announced as he entered Lassiter's apartment. "There's a _Cops_ marathon on tonight, and I bought popcorn."

"Great," Lassiter replied. He didn't sound all that thrilled.

"What's up?" Shawn asked, joining him on the couch.

"The chief said I could go back to work tomorrow."

"Awesome. Wait…why is that bad?"

"You realize that I'll be sitting. At my desk. All day."

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad. You'll be back in the field in no time."

"If I haven't gone insane by then,"

Shawn smiled. "Do you think this is too weird?"

"What?"

"Us. Having a normal conversation."

Lassiter shrugged. "Weird, kind of. Not too weird. Why?"

"Gus seems to think it is, since we hated each other before."

"I wouldn't go quite that far."

"That's what I said… Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"_Did_ we hate each other?"

They both sat in silence for a while, pondering the question. Everyone else seemed to think they were worst enemies, that they did hate each other. Maybe they couldn't see that now because they _didn't_ anymore.

And why were they rivals in the first place? Shawn was irreverent and uncouth, and Lassiter was too uptight and stiff. But they weren't like that now, were they? Had they really changed, as Shawn said, or…had they just accepted their differences?

~P~

"All right, Gus, what's so urgent about this new case?" Shawn asked as he walked into the Psych office. Gus was sitting with his feet up on the desk.

"Oh, so you can do that, but I can't?" Shawn pointed out.

"My desk, my rules, Shawn," Gus replied.

"What does the chief want us to solve?" Shawn repeated.

"I lied about the new case." Gus said, a smug smile on his face.

"Y-you lied? Convincingly?" Shawn put a hand on his heart dramatically. "Give me a moment…I…I'm just so proud." He broke out of the theatrics. "And I'm also a little pissed. Why couldn't you just tell me to meet you?"

"I just wanted to savor this moment."

"What moment?"

"Shawn, this is the moment I find you out. And I want to see your face when I do it."

"Find what out?" Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, you're convinced I'm _hiding_ something from you. This is going to be good. Tell me, master of investigation, what am I hiding?"

"You…" Gus said, pausing for dramatic effect, "like Lassie."

"Congratulations, Gus. I think pretty much everyone knows we're friends now."

"No, Shawn. You _like_ him."

"Oh, come on, Gus. That's ridiculous."

"If it's so ridiculous, why are you turning red?"

"Because…I'm allergic to things that are ridiculous." Shawn insisted weakly.

"You're just mad that I figured it out."

Shawn sighed. He looked around, making sure they were alone. "This information doesn't leave this room."

Gus grinned. "I know."

"I ought to kill you, you know."

"I know."

~P~


End file.
